


Killing it!

by Zy_Khrymzynn



Series: Nathmarc November 2020 [10]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: M/M, Murder, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27501265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zy_Khrymzynn/pseuds/Zy_Khrymzynn
Summary: NMN Day 10: NightThe night sky is dark. What is hidden in there?
Relationships: Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Series: Nathmarc November 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995844
Kudos: 6





	Killing it!

The darkness of Paris’ night sky wraps around him like a chilling cloak, wind rushing between the buildings of the city, the jacket he wore loosely flapping in the wind.

Many people said that the night made them tired, an instinctual, primal reaction to the end of the day. But for him, the night was exciting, buildings and people looked sharper in the night, and he could see what others couldn’t. The city of Paris had secrets within it, hidden doors and rooms that hide within deep, dark corridors, just there for the taking.

The midnight air breathed life into his body, his tired limbs rejuvenated with energy he’ll never have in the daytime. In the past, he merely used this energy to escape, to feel more free, but recently, he’d been reveling in a more sadistic and secret pursuit, something that would surely get him arrested and thrown in jail.

A flash of pink and purple caught his attention. A woman, walking alone. Ever since the two heroes had shown up, people had gotten more complacent, feeling more safe, and the news cycles were dominated by the akuma attacks happening several times a week, and sometimes multiple times a day. His little disappearances hardly had a mention on the news. His favorite knife was heavy in its sheath, just begging to be used. But no, not today. He unspooled the thin twisted steel and polymer “rope” that he used for strangulation from it’s position around his torso. Varying his methods means there’s little evidence that he’s the one responsible for so many. Hell, don’t judge him for wanting to improve his numbers.

He took one last look around, seeing if any of the heroes were around, and then climbed down from the roof. Alright, time to prep the scenario. He’d perfected this down to a science, his ratty clothing (that he’d fished out of a dumpster, to further sell the effect) and his small stature helped with all of this. He did one last check to make sure everything was in place, and then he got ready to set the scene. He was just about to stumble into the woman’s view when he heard a scream that was quickly cut off.

He secured a bandana around his face and rushed out to see what was going on. The woman was on the ground, and someone was choking her with a rope from behind, tightening it while both holding her to the ground and having a hand covering her mouth. This bastard stole his kill! He’s not going to let whoever this is get the better of him. 

He unsheathed his trusty knife and waited. He might be angry but he’s no idiot. If the two of them fight the lady might flee and she could give evidence against him. So he waited until the woman stopped struggling and dropped to the ground like her strings were cut, and then a minute more.

When the other person finally let go, that’s when he walked forward.

“Hey, that one was mine!” He called out.

“You should’ve claimed her, then.” Came the muffled response, a voice that sounded vaguely masculine.

“Whatever. Well don’t get into my territory again.” He turned to head back, but then the muffled voice spoke again.

“Why don’t we team up? If we work together we’ll be so much better.”

A paper airplane flew by him, and he grabbed it.

“That’s the phone number to a burner phone. Use it to reach me if you want to organize something. But in the meantime I’ll stick to the other side of the Seine. Until then, toodaloo.”

By the time he recovered enough from someone saying “Toodaloo” in this day and age, the mysterious teenager had disappeared, along with the body. So this wasn’t this guy’s first time, cool, he wasn’t dealing with an amateur then.

That fact made him more cautious, heading back home with a circuitous route, his hand on his favorite knife, ready to be pulled out in a moment’s notice. But whoever this was seemed to have kept to their word, and he didn’t see anything.

He’d gotten this number three days ago, and he still hasn't reached out. This would be him taking the deep dive, there’s no going back from this.

Fuck it, he might as well do it. He typed in the number and sent a quick text.

**You:** Hey, so I do think it’s a good idea for us to team up. I can’t wait!

The moment he sent that there was immediate regret. Why did he do this what the hell just calm down it’s not like he’s going to text ba-

His wandering thoughts were cut off when he got a text response.

**57-22-02-10-00:** So you really do? Alright, when did you want to meet up?

He responded? What does he do now? He responds, of course.

**You:** noon, in the place we met?

Noon? Oh yeah, there was this little cafe right where it happened. So he’d better brush up on his disguise ability.

**Sylvan Hunter:** Sure, I’ll pay if you don’t mind.

**You:** I’m not one to turn down free food.

**Sylvan Hunter:** When you get to the cafe, I’ll be the guy with a mechanical pencil in his hair and sunglasses. And who can I expect to see?

**You:** I’ll have mostly black hair with a few blond streaks and brown eyes. Also I’ll be dressed much nicer than what I was wearing that night.

**Sylvan Hunter:** What was that, by the way?

**You:** Immersion, this is an art, after all.

**Sylvan Hunter:** You’re right. People don’t understand how much of an art this is. I’ll see you then.

His nerves were running all the way down as he was walking to the cafe. What was going to happen here? He’s not going to get murdered, not in this public place, but there’s a very high chance he’ll be followed, or his details could be copied down for later.

His disguise was simple, as all good disguises were. He regularly bleached almost half of his hair so he could avoid being recognized. He dyed most of it back to his natural color of black, save for a few small highlights, which remained the light blond color.

Adding in colored contacts, some new hairstyling, and a different set of clothes, and he looks like an entirely different person. It’s a simple disguise but very effective. He made his way through Paris, weaving through the streets. His knife was an ever-present weight on his side, slid into it’s thin sheath under his skinny jeans, a second knife in a sheath in his shoe, a third in a sheath strapped around his chest, and two throwing knives in sheaths under his sleeves for quick withdrawal. He can’t be too careful.

It was 12:05 when he arrived at the street cafe and he took a look around to see who was wearing sunglasses and a mechanical pencil in his hair, and he immediately noticed who this described.

And oh boy he remembered why he was gay, and this boy was the main reason. The pencil was lodged in beautiful red-orange hair that combined with blue eyes reminded him of fire. Beautiful, burning fire. He’d quit arson when he was 12 but _god_ did this guy remind him of why he loved fire.

His eyes trailed down the rest of this guy’s body. A tight-fit tank top and jeans showed off  _ all _ this guy had to offer, and  _ dammit _ he’s fallen in love with a serial killer.

And when he looked back up again, he saw those beautiful blue eyes staring straight back at him. Oh damn he was caught. Welp, he’s already committed to this so he might as well talk.

“Uh… so I’ve never actually met someone like this before… How is this supposed to go?” He asked.

“Well, I mean we can just talk.”

So that’s exactly what happened. They just… talked for half an hour. And then a couple of days later. And then again. And then they started teaming up, sometimes playing into the scenarios he likes (There’s so many different scenarios you can make with two people!) Sometimes going with Nathaniel’s (the other guy’s name, he’d managed to get it) strategy of just going along with it.


End file.
